All This For Art
by Harthad
Summary: Crutchie's simple plan to tell the world (or maybe just Medda) about Jack's artwork becomes a little bit complicated when a) Braces finds out, b) two kids try to beat him and Braces up and c) he finds a whole lot of mice in his pape bag. Will things ever calm down so that Crutchie can say what he's really trying to say? Spring 1896. Written with my friend Olivia (starkidriddle).
1. Chapter 1

"You wanna bust the other leg too?" Jack Kelly demanded, reaching desperately for a few pieces of paper in Crutchie's hand.

"No, I wanna go down." Crutchie ignored Jack, turning away as he peered closer at the charcoal drawing. He limped closer to the edge of the roof, holding the paper away from Jack. He held it in front of his face, matching up the lines and squares to the New York City skyline. "This is pretty good, Jack."

"Gimme that!" Jack insisted, and grabbed the paper from Crutchie's hands. "I nevah said ya could look at it."

"Well, why not?" Crutchie insisted, and limped over to the ladder again. "I'm still goin' down."

"'Cause it's mine." Jack rolled up the drawing and placed it as far from Crutchie as possible. "If ya tell any of them boys about that drawin', I'll bust the other leg."

"I'll bet you do a better job than those folks at Miss Medda's," Crutchie offered. "You could start workin' for her. Forget bein' a newsie."

"Shut up," Jack mumbled, looking at the skyline instead of Crutchie. "I got other things tah do, people tah take care of."

"Other things tah do, like dream 'bout Santa Fe?" Crutchie guessed.

Jack glanced to Crutchie irritably. "Oh, jus' go down already, Crutchie!"

Crutchie laughed in spite of himself, lowering his foot down to the rungs of the ladder. "Can ya hand me my crutch, Jack?" he asked, looking up as he carefully hopped down.

Jack passed the Crutch down, smiling just a little at his friend. "Be careful out there. Don't wanna find ya gettin' beat up again."

"Ain't I always careful?" Crutchie asked innocently, and limped away. He had just gotten across the street when he called back to Jack on the roof. "By the way, ya should keep a better eye on your drawin's next time."

"Ya should mind yer own business next time," Jack answered, jumping down, himself.

Crutchie held up one of Jack's scrolls clutched tight in his hand. "I mean it, Jack."

Jack reached for the scroll, but failed to grab it. Instead, he took Crutchie's bag and shrugged. "Well, let's make a deal, why don' we?"

"A deal for your art, an' my bag?" Crutchie asked cautiously. "I'll pass."

"Well, gimme back my drawin'!" Jack insisted, gripping the bag frustratedly.

Crutchie started to limp away, putting the paper back in his pocket. "You said I need to give it back, you didn't say when."

"How 'bout now!" Jack reached for the paper again.

"Jack!" Crutchie gestured to the paper. "This is good stuff! You need tah show somebody!"

"I'm not showin' nobody!" Jack decided, "It's mine an' I'll do what I want wit' it."

Crutchie looked to the paper, and then to Jack. "Jack, you gotta."

"No, I don't. You can't tell me what I should an' shouldn't do, I'm older than ya!" Jack tried to argue, giving up to some extent.

"You can't refuse a crip!" Crutchie shot back, going for the low blow.

Jack stared at him for a moment, then finally just dropped his hands to his sides. "Fine! Do whatever ya want with it. An'—an' take your bag, too." Jack tossed the bag back to Crutchie and turned aside, defeated.

"I'll give all the credit to ya, Jack!" Crutchie called as he limped away again. "You won't go a few blocks in this city without everyone knowin' Jack Kelly, the famous artist!"

"Don't do that, though!" Jack insisted, shaking his head, "I don't want people makin' requests or nothin'."

"Makin' requests? Nah," Crutchie shook his head. "They'd jus' be amazed at all your hard work."

"No, they'll make requests an' they'll come an' they won't leave me alone till I go tah art school." Jack argued, dropping his shoulders, "I don't want no one tellin' me how talented I am. I know I am but I don't need 'em remindin' me."

"Ya know you're talented, huh?" Crutchie laughed. "Well, don't we all."

Jack grumbled something, and turned back to staring at the vast skyline of Lower Manhattan. "Go on, then." He rolled his eyes slightly, "Go out an' do whatever it was ya was gonna do in the first place."

"I will," Crutchie gave Jack a mocking bow, and purposely strode away down the streets. His form and tapping of the crutch was soon swallowed up by the advancing dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

"Whatcha got there?" Braces asked, seeing something in Crutchie's hand as he walked up to the Distribution Office. "Looks pretty top-secret, judgin' by the way yous carryin' it."

Crutchie started at the sound of her voice, and attempted to put the drawings back in his pocket. "It's Jack's. I stole—I took it. From 'im."

"You stole it?" Braces asked, tilting her head to the side, "Why did you steal it? I mean, did 'e give ya permission tah take somethin' that was 'is?"

"Not…not exactly, but then he did," Crutchie said sheepishly, glancing down to the paper and tapping it so it wouldn't stick out as much.

"Didn't take ya fer a thief, Crutchie," Braces looked away for a moment. "Thought ya were always a little more honest than that."

"Jack said I could take it," Crutchie said defensively, and then drew the scroll out of his pocket to show Braces. "See? It's really good. Jack drew it."

"Yeah, that's great." Braces mumbled, glancing at it for a moment. "Look, ya can't just convince people tah letcha take stuff."

"But it's jus' Jack!" Crutchie protested, huffing. "Why not?"

"'Cause that's min—mah—manipulative!" Braces insisted, frowning a little. "C'mon, Crutch, think about it."

"I did think about it, an' now I got his drawin'! If we show it tah Miss Medda, Jack could become a famous artist!" Crutchie pronounced 'artist' with a purposeful really bad French accent. "Braces, I did it for Jack!"

"Yeah, but that's—that ain't 'onest." Braces shook her head, "Crutchie, I've told you so many times, I don't like liars!"

"I didn't lie, Braces!" Crutchie practically threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

Braces didn't say anything at first. She shifted her weight awkwardly and tried not to get angry at him. Although she was an excellent liar herself, she hated when people were dishonest. Taking a deep breath, she looked down. "I'm not sayin' yous a liar," She mumbled, "I'm sayin' whatcha did was somethin' a liar woulda done."

"Well I ain't a liar, I'm Crutchie," Crutchie figured. "So it was somethin' I did—not a liar."

"I know you're Crutchie," Braces rolled her eyes, "I'm jus' wonderin' if Crutchie's a liar."

"I ain't a liar," Crutchie pleaded. "That's somethin' the Delancey Brothers do—an' I ain't one o' them!"

"I know," Braces said, matter-of-fact, "I know you ain't a Delancey either. I'm jus' sayin, ya shouldn't 'ave manipulated 'im."

"I didn't," Crutchie muttered. "'Onestly, Braces!"

"Okay, fine," Braces sighed out of frustration. "Stand there in yer wrongness, an' be wrong, an' get used to it."

"I ain't wrong," Crutchie said, starting to get frustrated. "You're wrong, 'cause I didn't lie or anythin'."

"Wait, so now it's about me?" Braces scoffed, glaring at him for half a moment, "Wow, that's just logical."

"What does logic gotta do with Jack's art?!" Crutchie huffed.

"I'm sayin' yous turnin' this on me an' it's illogical!" Braces turned away, "I don't know what the hell yous talkin' 'bout today."

"Well, what the hell you talkin' about today?!" Crutchie asked her, and started to limp away. "I'm jus' goin' to get my papes an' stop talkin'! To you!"

Braces reluctantly limped after him. "Nope, nope, you can't jus' walk away like that. Yous blamin' me for Jack's art an' I jus'—why is this about me?"

"It ain't about you, it's about Jack's art!" Crutchie protested. "I don't know why yous gettin' on my case!"

"You were showin' it tah me, I got curious." Braces mumbled, frowning slightly. "C'mon, ya know that I'm at least a little bit right, Crutch. It's silly that wes arguin' like this."

"Arguin'? Who's arguin'?" Oscar Delancey cut in, hollering from the Distribution Office. "You're holdin' up the line! Getcha papes an' get over with it!"

Crutchie limped forward, putting his money on the counter. "A hundred papes."

Braces anxiously limped after him. "Um, seventy," She said putting her money on the counter.

"Like she said, sensibility, Oscar," Crutchie shot back, and took his bundle of newspapers from the teenager.

"Seventy," Braces corrected, taking her own newspapers, "Sensibility's somethin' ya don't got, Crutch."

"I do!" Crutchie turned to her. "I got street smarts the same as the next person. Look, why don'tcha jus' get your papes an' get outta 'ere?"

Braces stared at Crutchie for a moment."Fine," She scoffed, "Don't expect tah see me later, then."

"I won't," Crutchie told her with a slight glare, and limped off, the tap and drag of his feet receding into the streets of New York.


	3. Chapter 3

Braces irritably limped off, not paying attention to the streets in front of her. She didn't see how this should be about her. It was about Crutchie and Jack. She was just playing Devil's Advocate to try and make Crutchie see that what the whole situation should be misconstrued as. She wandered to the nearest street corner, ready to start hawking headlines. Not that she really felt like it, at this point. Taking a newspaper in her hand, Braces began calling out the headline, not noticing the two pairs of footsteps coming up behind her.

"Governor Roos—," Braces started to call, only to be pulled back into an alleyway by Peter and Mace. She tried to run off, but didn't really know where to start. She'd never been taught how to fight. She was pushed to the ground by Mace, and Peter started to kick at her. "What? Ain't ya gonna fight back?!" Peter demanded. Braces scrambled to stand again, unable to find balance.

"No, 'cause I don't know 'ow tah fight," Braces answered reluctantly, clumsily clenching her fists, her thumb inside of her fingers, as that's how she thought you were supposed to throw a punch. She quickly punched the boy in the jaw, her hand falling open as soon as she pulled her fist away. Her thumb was on fire, it seemed. She shook out her hand, confused by this, only to see the finger all bruised. Her hand twitched uncontrollably. Braces started to walk away, dazed and a little confused. "My thumb broke," she mumbled, only to get punched (properly) in the shoulder, throwing her back into the brick wall. "Well, don't punch me when I'm down!" She scoffed at Mace, furrowing her eyebrows, "I can't fight ya!"

"Get away from 'er!" came a sudden shout, and Jack Kelly rushed into the alleyway, throwing a correct punch at Mace and knocking him down. "Both o' you!" Jack yelled, stalking towards Peter. "Get out! Go pick on someone your own size!"

Peter and Mace stalked out, though Peter gave Braces a black eye before he headed out. Braces looked to Jack with one eye closed and her hand close to her stomach and shrugged. "I'm—uhm—I don't know 'ow tah fight," She repeated herself, "Thanks."

"'Ere, we'll take care of that hand," Jack gently picked Braces up and carried her in his arms. "You'll be fine. Where's Crutchie? Thought you two always sold together."

"Crutchie's out bein' a little punk is what 'e's doin'," Braces mumbled, leaning her head into Jack's shoulder, "He has your drawin', y'know. I told 'im 'e was manipulatin' ya but then 'e got mad at me an' I got beat up."

"I'll getcha to the Lodgin' House an' wrap up that hand, and then I'll find 'im, alright?" Jack reassured her, sighing internally. If only Crutchie hadn't taken his artwork, then this all could have been avoided.

Braces nodded tiredly. "I tried tah hit 'em," she explained, "'Pparently when ya cover up your thumb it don't protect it so good."

"Ya hit Crutchie?" Jack asked, surprised.

"No, Peter an' Mace," Braces chuckled sleepily, "I tried tah hit them, 'cause they was hittin' me. I didn't hit Crutchie, even if I wanted tah…,"

Jack walked on in silence, eventually pushing open the door to the Lodging House and depositing Braces on the couch there. "You stay there, I'll get bandages," he instructed her.

Braces nodded silently, looking at her hand. It was purple from the tip of her thumb to her forefinger. She wondered why nobody had ever bothered to teach her to fight before. She looked up at the stairs, the wall, and frowned a little. "I'll be here," She promised, although Jack had already left the room.

"We need tah teach you to fight," Jack called from the kitchen, and then emerged with a roll of clean bandages. "'Ere we go. Never really used these before, 'cept for a bloody nose or somethin'. Hopefully we won't use 'em again."

"So I'm… uh… the first tah get bandages, 'ere?" Braces asked, looking down as Jack wrapped up her hand. "See, I know stuff like that, but hittin' people, I ain't so good at." She chuckled slightly, though it was really a dreadful thought for her. If it ever got worse than that, she wouldn't be able to do anything. And Jack had to get her out of the alley anyway. "Or jus' fightin' in general, I means."

Jack nodded, and tied up the last of the fabric. "There, how's that feel?"

"Tight," Braces replied nonchalantly, "Which is 'ow it's s'posed'a be, 'cause it'll fix it sooner or later. Prob'ly later." She looked at the white fabric for a moment in contrast to her hand, which was still red and purple and yellow—any way you looked at it, it was not the normal color of a hand—and kind of smiled, though it wasn't all that nice to look at.

Jack glanced to the door, tapping his leg absentmindedly. "D'you know which way Crutchie went?"

Braces thought about it for a moment. "I was mad, so I didn't look." She told Jack after some deliberation, "I think toward Grand Central, but… I dunno."

Jack stood up, crossing to the door. "Maybe I better go look—jus' to get my art back." He jumped back as the door flew open. "They've got Crutchie!" Romeo cried.

"Who do?" Braces asked, looking up from the couch concernedly. "Hi, Romeo." She mumbled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice the imminent black eye.

"Peter an' Mace—woah, what 'appened to you?" Romeo exclaimed as he caught a good look at Braces.

"Peter an' Mace 'appened," Braces answered awkwardly, closing her one eye for a moment because it just hurt too much to keep it open. "I can't fight."

"I'll get 'im," Jack said immediately, and rushed out the door.

"Romeo, will ya 'elp me stand up?" Braces asked, feeling an intensely painful bruise on her calf from where she was kicked earlier.

"Whataya goin' to do?" Romeo walked over to her. "Jack won't like it if you leave 'ere."

"I gotta do somethin'," Braces explained, grabbing Romeo's forearms and pulling herself up, "If I don't get out there an' 'elp, I'll jus' die peacefully in my own grave."

"No, Braces, you can't!" Romeo tried pulling away, but eventually let Braces walk with him to the door. "'M sure Jack an' Crutchie will be….fine!"

Braces looked at Romeo for a moment. "What, ya don't trust me?" She asked with a slight smirk on her face, "An' I doubt they'll be fine, anyways. They get intah trouble."

"You get intah trouble," Romeo reminded her.

Braces paused for a moment. "Oh. Right, of… of course." She mumbled, "I'm bein' stupid, huh?"

"Jack don't want you gettin' hurt," Romeo pleaded with her.

Braces pursed her lips, frustrated. "I don't want him an' Crutchie gettin' hurt neither."

Romeo sighed, turning away from her and putting a hand over his face. "Braces…."

"What?" Braces asked, confused by his nonspecific exclamation, "What did I do?"

Romeo glanced back to her. "Oh. You're still 'ere? I was givin' you a window o' opportunity!" He flung his hands up in the air. "My back was turned an' everythin'!"

Braces lifted her eyes to the ceiling for a moment. "You're on my side and I thought I upset you or something." She groaned, before turning and trying to bolt.

"Go now, I ain't lookin'!" Romeo said, his back still turned.

Braces limped painfully to the door. "You're a dear, Romeo." She said as she tried to open it with her left hand. She had been stupid in punching with her right hand, because now she had broken fingers. She struggled with slipping the door open without a thumb, and finally she just slumped down in front of the door. "I'm useless." She huffed, hitting her head against the door repeatedly.

Romeo walked over, still looking away from her, and opened the door. "Go. Live your dream. I can't say I saw anythin'."

"You're like a miracle worker," Braces mumbled, slowly standing and limping weakly out the door. "But, 'ey, aren't ya comin' with?"

"Sure," Romeo sighed nervously. "But I don't wanna run into Peter an' Mace either. Or a spider. I hate spiders."

"I can promise you that we won't see any spiders, an' if we does, I'll kill it. 'Least I can kill spiders." Braces smiled a little. "'Sides, I'm not much use in the world."

"None o' us is much use in The World," Romeo said, and walked out the door. "Come on, I guess. We should be 'fore Jack comes back."

Braces followed after Romeo, closing the door behind her with her good hand. "Yous the best," she told him quickly, gratefully, "I can't hit anyone anymore so you gotta be my fists today."

"I'll be your knight in shinin' armor," Romeo quipped with a slightly scared smile.

Braces shook her head, laughing a little. "No chivalry, jus'… yous my hands."

Romeo took her good hand and pulled her down the street. "Which way did Jack go, you think?"

"Well, uhm, Peter an' Mace ran off, errr," she indicated the street with her bad hand, "That way, maybe? Not sure."

"Then it's thataway we go," Romeo responded, and took off in the direction indicated.


	4. Chapter 4

Braces limped off beside Romeo, looking around cautiously. Down an alleyway, she heard a clatter of someone hitting a brick wall, scraping shoes, and a cat meowing. She saw the creature run out moments later, and Jack stepping out of the alleyway, blood on his lip. "Um, I found 'em," Braces told Romeo awkwardly.

Romeo rushed into the alley, and then ran back out again, eyes going wide with fright.

Braces raised an eyebrow. "What's in there?" She asked, looking around the boy. She moved to get past him, and Jack caught sight of her.

"What're ya doin' outta the Lodgin' 'ouse?!" Jack pushed her away from the scene, "Go back."

"No, Crutchie, I'm here tah help!" Braces insisted, "Your lip—,"

"I know my lip's bleedin'. Ya ain't my mother, Braces!" Jack insisted, "An'—Romeo, what are ya doin'?!"

Romeo was peeking out from behind Braces' shoulder. "There's a giant spider," he mumbled.

Braces looked at Romeo for a moment. "I can kill it," she told him quietly. "Jack, where's Crutchie?"

Jack threw her a look, and then dashed back inside the alley. He emerged a moment later with the boy in his arms. Crutchie had a black eye to match Braces', and hardly moved as Jack brought him over.

Braces caught sight of a spider, and reluctantly shooed it away with her good leg, not killing it. She didn't know what to say to Jack or Crutchie,and kept her eyes fixed on the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"All this for art," Jack shook his head, and walked past Braces. "Come on. I'll getcha all back to the Lodgin' House."

Braces nodded, looking to Romeo. "I got riddah the spider," she told him with a slight smile, looking down as she walked on behind Jack.

"Thanks," Romeo muttered sheepishly, and then scampered up to Jack. "Is Crutchie okay?"

"I hope," Jack scoffed, not looking at Romeo.

"Braces ran out on me!" Romeo protested. "I couldn't stop 'er. I didn't even….see 'er go!"

"Yeah, right, Mistah Knight-in-Shinin'-Armor," Braces raised an eyebrow at him, patting his shoulder as she walked past the boy.

Romeo stuck his tongue out at her as she walked by. "Is Crutchie okay?" he asked again. "Is he unconscious?"

"Yeah," Jack mumbled, as they walked through the door of the Lodging House. "He'll be fine, Romeo."

Romeo nodded, and glanced out the doors. "I gotta sell more papes, Jack. I'll be back later."

Braces walked up behind Jack and peeked over his shoulder as Crutchie was gently placed on the couch. "Sorry," She mumbled, acting as a pet would when they had accidentally done something wrong.

"Why did you come out after I told you tah stay?" Jack asked, turning on Braces.

"I thought I could help," Braces answered timidly.

"Yeah, well, ya thought wrong, Braces Fitzgerald." Jack retorted, "You an' Crutchie, yous jus' always gettin' intah trouble, ain't ya?"

"An' yous always there tah get us outta it, Jack Kelly," Crutchie mumbled from his spot on the couch.

"I'm so sorry, Crutchie," Braces pointed out as soon as he spoke, "I wouldn't 'ave said it if I knew it'd getcha 'ere."

Crutchie glanced around. "Back at the Lodgin' House? It's fine. Not a fancy 'otel, but I'll live."

"No, I mean—agh, ya know what I mean," Braces slumped her shoulders, "Broke my hand an' everythin'."

"Ya broke your hand?!" Crutchie sat up immediately, looking at her. Jack put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down to the safety of the couch. "She's fine, Crutchie. I fixed 'er hand."

"Yeah, 'pparently I can't fight," Braces mumbled, "Jack, I'm holdin' ya tah that offer with teachin' me tah fight."

"Lucky for you," Jack ignored Braces' statement and kept his eyes on Crutchie. "You didn't break anythin'. But you're all bruised an' beaten so you're goin' to stay in bed for today."

"I'll stay with ya," Braces offered, smiling slightly at Crutchie though she felt horrible about the whole situation. "Think Peter an' Mace stole some o' my newspapers. I got thirty an' I 'ad seventy." She shrugged, "So it goes."

"We match," Crutchie flicked his eyes up to her. "Your eye. It's black, too."

"Yeah, we do," Braces smiled slightly, "Only you can throw a punch, can't ya?" She held up her bandaged hand for a moment, practically scrutinizing the thing.

"Let's see," Crutchie sat up, and clumsily threw one at Jack.

"What'd ya do that for?!" Jack asked, clasping a hand to where Crutchie had hit him. He went to hit back before he remembered that Crutchie had been hurt.

"It was your art!" Crutchie ducked his head, dodging the blow. He sheepishly looked up at Jack. "An' Peter an' Mace stole it."

"They stole it?" Jack looked to Braces first, as if she would know anything about it. "I'm goin' back out there—an' don't you two leave!"


	5. Chapter 5

Crutchie watched as the door closed shut behind Jack, and then swung his legs off the couch. "Where's my bag?" he glanced around. "My pape bag."

"No, Crutchie, you ain't goin' out there." Braces insisted, "Ya heard what Jack jus' said!"

"Jack's stupid," Crutchie muttered, and walked over to the door. He bent down and clutched his bag tight—it was strangely squirming back and forth. He quickly stowed it under the couch, and turned back to Braces innocently. "What?"

"I don't want ya tah get hurt," Braces replied meekly, looking down a little. She sat on the arm of the couch and didn't meet his eyes. "If you're goin' anywhere, ya should take me 'cause then we'll both be in trouble an' one of us ain't bearin' the brunt."

"I ain't lettin' you get in trouble," Crutchie protested, shaking his head. He limped back to the door, extending a hand for the door knob. "Stay 'ere, Braces," he instructed her.

"Why?" Braces asked, "I don't mind trouble. I'm a walkin' catastrophe anyways." She painfully got to her feet and tried to limp over to him.

"No, yous a walkin' Braces," Crutchie turned the doorknob. He frowned, and then turned it again. Crutchie lowered his eyes to stare at the knob. "Jack locked us in!"

Braces chuckled slightly—until Crutchie spoke of the locks. "Ya mus' be jokin'," Braces shook her head, "That's dangerous, ain't it?"

Crutchie nodded. "If the 'ouse burns down on us…."

"Then we die," Braces finished for him, "An' it'll be Jack's fault."

"It will," Crutchie confirmed, and limped back to the couch. "Did Peter an' Mace really beat ya up bad?"

Braces looked up at Crutchie for a moment. "Not… not too bad. Jus' my leg, an' my shoulder, an'… an' my eye, an' my stomach, an' my shoulder, but I'm okay." Braces shrugged, though it hurt to do so. "You?"

"I ain't bad at all," Crutchie lied, looking up at her. He patted the space of the couch next to her. "Come on, sit with me—ooof! Wags!" he shouted as the dog clambered up and put his paws on his shoulders.

Braces slowly sat down next to Crutchie, grinning at Wags. "Yeah, well, you was out fer a while, there," she noted, raising an eyebrow. "Can we make a deal that neither o' us lies tah the other? Unless we know it'll 'urt the other person, jus'… bein' honest?"

Crutchie peeked past his dog, who still had his paws on his shoulders and was panting with his tongue hanging out. "O' course, Braces. I'll never lie tah you…..again," he muttered.

"Better not," Braces smiled a little, "Or I'll break my hand again, 'pparently."

"You'd break your hand jus' if I lied to you?" Crutchie asked her, alarmed.

"No, I jus' can't hit people," Braces chuckled, looking down. "I'm awful at it."

"I'll teach you," Crutchoe offered, and placed Wags on the couch. "'Ere, raise your hand like this," he raised his fist up but didn't get a chance to say anything else before Wags pawed the couch and walked to Braces, placing his paws on her shoulders. He barked.

Braces looked to Wags for a moment, smiling surprisely at the dog. She grabbed the dog's paw affectionately, still looking up at Crutchie as Wags licked her face. She shrugged, then held up her broken hand. "How?" She asked, moving the dog with one gentle arm so she could stand by Crutchie.

"Like this," Crutchie held up his hand again to demonstrate. "Then try to hit me. Don't worry, I'll dodge."

Braces copied the way his fist was clenched, and how he held his arm, and tried to hit him. She missed by a longshot, being terrified of hurting him. "Well… that didn't work," she mumbled, before trying again and stopping short of his face.

Crutchie smiled. "Good! Now…actually hit me."

Braces looked to her hand fearfully, then to Crutchie. "I don't wanna hurt ya, though."

"I can' take it!" Crutchie told her, and pushed Wags away, but the dog just settled down onto his lap. "Try it."

Braces swallowed, and closed her eyes as she swung her fist in the direction of Crutchie's shoulder, aiming a little lower. She didn't want to hurt his face if she could help it. She opened one eye, having felt her fist hit something, and smiled slightly.

"Ahh!" Crutchie yelled involuntarily, falling back onto the couch. He was smiling though. "Good one."

"Really?" Braces asked, smiling slightly. "I didn't think I did much."

"Let's try it again," Crutchie began to sit up but that effort was destroyed by Wags jumping on his stomach. Crutchie sighed. "Wags!"

"Wags, you're ruinin' the abuse I'm puttin' Crutchie through!" Braces joked, before she went a little bit pale. So that was why she didn't want to hit anyone. In truth, she felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought. "It's… it's fine," She told Crutchie with a half-smile, "It's okay."

Crutchie propped himself up on his elbows, Wags giving a look to Braces as he frantically waved his tail back and forth. "Ya won't hurt me," Crutchie protested.

"Ya sure?" Braces asked quietly, looking to him beseechingly. "I don't wanna hurt anyone if I can 'elp it."

"'M sure," Crutchie looked at her. "Jus' one more time."

Braces returned her hand to where it had been and she reluctantly punched his shoulder. She drew back her hand and looked at it for a moment, hoping that would be the last time she intentionally had to hurt someone she cared about. "That was once," Braces said quickly, "Your arm okay?"

"Yeah," Crutchie moved his shoulder around and winced as pain flared up through his arm. He caught Braces' look and slowly stopped moving his arm.

"You sure?" She asked again. "If I hurt ya, I wanna know 'cause then it'll jus' keep me from ever actually 'urtin' ya. I don't wanna 'urt no one, Crutchie. I can't be like—I jus' can't."

"I know ya don't want tah hurt nobody, Braces," Crutchie reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but couldn't reach her because Wags was holding him down. "But sometimes….we gotta protect us, or somebody else, right?"

Braces looked to him for a moment, thinking. "Is that why my dad hurt me?" She asked innocently, feeling horribly eight-years-old. She bit her lip as she waited for some kind of reassurance.

"O' course not!" Crutchie said, a bit outraged. "He hurt ya 'cause he was a jerk. He hurt ya for the same reason Peter an' Mace did, they like it when we's hurt. They thought it was funny." He moved his eyes to the floor, trying not to think of how he had been cringing up against the wall as they had laughed at his weakness.

"But he was my dad, he wasn't s'posed'a hurt me," Braces tried to explain, "I don't wanna be like that. I don't wanna hurt people 'cause I can. I jus'—," she shook her head, chuckling sadly. "He was s'posed'a keep me safe."

"Now ya got Jack an' me," Crutchie tried to reassure her awkwardly. "We'll keep ya safe."

Braces locked eyes with Crutchie for a moment. "Either of ya so much 's threaten tah hit me, I'm outta 'ere."

"Why'd we do that?!" Crutchie asked her. "Do I look like I hit goils like you?"

"No," Braces answered sheepishly, trying to smile with one corner of her mouth, "'Cause you're really… gentle."

Crutchie blushed slightly. "Thanks. I think?"

"No, that's… that's good," Braces told him, "You're tough but ya don't hurt people jus' 'cause ya can."

"O' course I don't. My name's not Peter or Mace, is it?"

"Your name's Crutchie Morris," Braces answered, nodding a little, "An' you ain't Peter or Mace or Patrick Fitzgerald."

"Good," Crutchie smiled quietly. "Hate to be someone I ain't."

Braces nodded, then reached out to grab Crutchie's hand with her left, unbroken hand. "Thank you fer understandin'."

"I always understand things!" Crutchie took her hand. Wags placed his paw on their hands, still panting.

"Yeah, sometimes better than I do," Braces pointed out, "You're… kinda savin' me, 'ere."

"Jack an' Romeo brought you 'ere," Crutchie pointed out. "I was unconscious."

Braces shrugged. "That's different," she explained, "Jack got me outta the alleyway earlier but this is… this is more 'n that."

"Braces, don't go all poetic on me," Crutchie raised an eyebrow. "I still 'aven't finished that book you gave me two months ago."

"Which one?" Braces asked, smiling slightly, "I gave ya a couple of books. An' I know you finished the Dickens one."

"The….the…" Crutchie fumbled for an answer, but was prevented from saying anything as Jack burst through the door. Crutchie immediately put a hand on his squirming paper bag, shoving it away from Jack's sight.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hi, Jack," Braces mumbled, "I punched Crutchie."

"You—what?" Jack asked breathlessly.

"Braces!" Crutchie turned to her, trying to pretend that he hadn't been looking at his bag. "Braces, ya wasn't 'sposed to tell 'im that!"

"Well, fine!" Braces chuckled, "It was once an' it was an accident." She lied.

Jack gave them a strange look. "What's in your bag, Crutch?"

Crutchie shook his head. "Nothin'! Why…why d'you ask, Jack?"

"'Cause you was lookin' at it."

"I wasn't lookin' at it," Crutchie threw an innocent glance to Braces. "Was I lookin' at my bag? I don't think so."

"Nope, not at all." Braces answered with a shrug, "I think yous seein' things, Jack Kelly."

"Well, I may be seein' things but 't least ya didn't leave." Jack scoffed. "Lemme see that hand, Braces."

Braces reluctantly held out her hand for Jack to look at it for a moment, raising an eyebrow. Jack's eyes widened. "Were you hittin' somethin'?!"

"What? No," Braces answered, "Yous really seein' things."

"We didn't leave 'cause you locked us in," Crutchie muttered. "An' she wasn't hittin' things. Besides Peter's face when she broke 'er hand."

"Yeah, well, why're there bruises on your knuckles? You didn't even use your knuckles when ya punched Peter." Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Did, too." Braces scoffed, "Gosh, Jack, calm down, why don't ya."

"I mean, it wouldn't be as if she hit me or anythin'….." Crutchie trailed off, and then asked Jack in an abnormally cheery voice. "So, 'ow was the sellin' today, Jack? Hot off the presses?"

Jack tried to understand the chipper question. "It was okay," he told Crutchie, "Normal. 'S a fine life."

There was a pause. "Why did you lock us in 'ere?" Crutchie asked with a note of accusation coming into his voice.

"You were gonna leave," Jack stated, "An', uh… I needed you two to lay low."

"Lay low, 'cause of Peter an' Mace?" Crutchie asked.

"'Cause ya got beat up," Jack replied, frowning at Crutchie.

"S'not like it only happens once a year," Crutchie grumbled, and sighed slightly. "All I wanted was tah give your art to Miss Medda."

Jack chuckled once, almost bitterly. "Yeah, well she saw it." He explained, "'Cause I showed it tah 'er."

Crutchie frowned slightly. "Before or after Peter an' Mace stole it?"

Jack smirked. "After."

"So….then what 'appened?" Crutchie asked slowly. "Ya showed it to Miss Medda, an' what did she say?"

"She said it was good," Jack shrugged, "That uh… she wants me to paint a backdrop for 'er."

Crutchie punched the air with a fist, breaking into a grin. "I toldja!"

"Well, jeez, calm down," Jack grumbled, though he was proud of the fact, as well.

"I toldja," Crutchie repeated. "Now you won't go anywhere in New York wit'out people knownin' your name."

"An' the World'll remember me," Jack rolled his eyes, "I ain't a da Vinci or nothin'."

"Nah, you're a Jack Kelly," Crutchie responded. "People'll be killin' for your art in a few years."

"Right," Jack scoffed, "Let's hope they don't kill no one I like."

Crutchie looked at Braces, standing up jerkily. "I'll walk you back to your Lodgin' House, Braces."

"Ya sure?" She asked, standing up and grabbing his hand to try and regain her balance.

"I'm sure," Crutchie started leading her to the door. "I'll be back, Jack."

"Alright. Don't get hurt out there." Jack mumbled, walking them to the door. "An', uh, keep an eye out fer Peter an' Mace."

"We will," Crutchie replied, opening the door for Braces.

"There ya go, bein' all chivalrous," Braces grinned at him, walking out of the door. "Thanks."

"I ain't chivalrous!" Crutchie protested, following her out into the streets. "How is the girls at the Lodgin' House doin'?"

"It's fine," Braces answered, "Y'know, the same 's always. Squeaker an' Pigeon 'ave all their shenanigans an'… y'know, the works."

"Squeaker? You got a new one?" Crutchie asked. "How old's she?"

"Small," Braces answered with a shrug. "We ain't really sure."

"Small," Crutchie chuckled. "That's what Jack said 'bout me when I first came to the Lodgin' House. I'm still short."

"Nah," Braces answered, "You're jus' the right size."

Crutchie glanced to her. "'Onestly?"

"'Onestly," Braces smiled at him, "You are."

Crutchie left her at the doorstep of the Lodging House, and limped away. "See you tomorrow, Braces." He limped back to his own house and traveled up the stairs to where everyone was sleeping. At the last moment, he remembered his bag underneath the couch. Rushing down the steps cautiously so he wouldn't fall, he grabbed the squirming bag in his hands and hurried back upstairs. Thankfully, Jack and all the boys were asleep. With quite precision, Crutchie opened the bag and peeked inside to see the ten rustling mice squeaking and trying to escape. Crutchie glanced to Jack's bed, and shuffled over, releasing the contents of the bag. The mice scurried in underneath the blankets and through Jack's pillow, burrowing deep into the bed. Crutchie stifled a laugh, and quickly jerked away as Jack let out a snore. Crutchie tiptoed over to his bed, sliding in for a good night's sleep.

He just couldn't wait for Jack's reaction in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

"OH MY GOD WHAT IS THIS." Jack yelled, frantically pulling the blankets away from his legs, "WHERE DID THESE MICE COME FROM?!" He jumped out of bed, staring fearfully at the mice.

"Spice?" asked Romeo groggily as he struggled up from his bed. "Where's spice?"

"MICE." Jack replied, shaking Romeo, "There are mice in my bed!"

"Well, I didn't put 'em there!" Romeo swatted Jack away. "Where'd they come from?"

"I. Don't. Know." Jack stated, breathing heavily. He was utterly panicked. He didn't like mice so much. "Romeo, there are mice in my bed."

"Then get 'em out!" Romeo cried, thinking Jack was being a little ridiculous. "Here, I'll help." He walked over to Jack's bed sleepily, and then jumped back in fright, clinging onto Jack's arm. "Spider!"

"Spiders don't matter!" Jack protested, "Now who's bein' silly?" He tried to push a mouse out of his bed, but drew back in disgust. "Who did this, anyways?!"

Romeo shook his head. "I dunno. Who's got a grudge against you this week?"

"Peter an' Mace," Jack replied, drawing back even further. "An'… Braces?"

"Where's Braces?" Crutchie asked sleepily, dimly wondering if Jack had discovered the mice yet.

"She ain't 'ere, loverboy, go back tah dreamin' 'bout 'er." Albert groaned, "Don't understan' why ya gotta be so loud, Jack…"

"I AIN'T BEIN' LOUD." Jack yelled, dropping his hands frustratedly, "There is mice in my bed!"

"We know that," Race replied irritably, pulling the pillow over his ears, "Sleep on the floor, why don't ya?"

Jack glared at Race for a moment. "I'm gonna find who did this an' they's gonna pay."

Crutchie sat up, shaking his head slightly. So, ehhhhh…..mice, Jack? Mice, in your bed?" He paused. "Who coulda done that?"

"Someone who can get tah my bed." Jack decided. "It was one o' ya."

"Well, it wasn't me!" Crutchie told him and was followed by each of the other newsies protesting that they couldn't have done it also.

"Uh, it was me," a quiet voice at the bottom of the steps spoke up. Braces had walked up while the were all arguing, the sound of her brace covered by the noise. It wasn't her, but she wanted them to go back to bed so she could say something to Crutchie. At this point, it seemed fraught to do so anyway. "I did it."

Jack clenched his fist, but didn't act on his anger, seeing as she was a girl, and a very fragile one at that. "Braces, what're ya doin' 'ere?"

"I…um… I wanted to know if you could rebandage my hand?" Braces lied through her teeth, but Jack believed her, grumbling about how getting mice was the wrong way to do that. He walked over to her and started unwrapping the fabric on her hand.

Crutchie gave a sharp look to Braces, and then turned away sheepishly, hoping no one had noticed him. He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, limping over to her. "So, ehhhh, how're ya feelin', Braces?"

"Can't sleep," Braces replied, not looking at her hand. "Thought I'd come over 'ere an'—,"

"Put mice in my bed?" Jack asked. He was in the process of tightly wrapping her hand again.

"An' talk tah Crutchie," Braces corrected him. She hadn't done it, but if he believed it was her, nobody would get hurt. In reality, she had no idea who had put the mice there, anyway. "'Cause I got… nervous." She didn't want to say she had been scared, that she had been having nightmares about her house.

"Well, ya can't get nervous now that I'm 'ere," Crutchie reassured her, putting a gentle hand that suspiciously smelled like mice on her shoulder.

"I guess not," Braces smiled thinly, wincing as Jack tied a knot on the fabric. "I mean… well, ya know 'bout my life. I toldja. I jus'—y'know."

"An' ya can get them mice outta my bed now that your 'and's clean." Jack remarked, irritably walking backward and gesturing to the bed. Braces nodded dutifully. Truthfully, mice made her a little nervous. She glanced to Crutchie almost helplessly, and limped over to the bed, holding out her left hand in hopes they would just come to her.

"I, uh, I got it, Jack," Crutchie said hurriedly, and limped over quickly. He leaned against the bed, throwing out his hands for the mice. "Come on, squeakers," he muttered. "You too, Philip."

Braces chuckled at the names, a little less nervous now that he was there with her. She gently picked up one of the mice in her hands, looking at it for a moment. She didn't want to hurt it, was all. That's why she was afraid. "They 'ave names?" Braces wondered, looking to Crutchie with large and surprised brown eyes.

"No," Crutchie protested, surprised that she had caught him. A mouse scurried up in his arm while he was distracted and burrowed up to his shirt collar, peeping out and squeaking at Braces.

Braces raised an eyebrow. "So ya called the one that's lookin' at me 'Philip' 'cause 'e looked like a Philip?" She asked then glanced to the mouse in her own hands. "I think he's a… Danny."

Crutchie frowned slightly. "Lookin' atcha?" He glanced down and 'Philip' looked up at him, squeaking again. Crutchie carefully lifted the mouse out of his collar, holding him in his hands. Crutchie turned to Jack, presenting the mouse to him. "Can we at least keep this one, Jack? He's kinda cute."

Jack grimaced at the mouse but nodded slightly. "Keep 'im outta Braces' 'ands an' outta my bed, an'… fine." He grumbled. Braces smirked, but didn't know where to put 'Danny' for the time being. She held him up in Crutchie's direction, wordlessly inquiring after his place of belonging.

Crutchie shrugged. "My bed?"

"Okay," Braces glanced awkwardly to the other boys and placed the mouse in Crutchie's bed. "Th-thanks, I guess."

"Why'd ya 'ave tah do that anyways?" Romeo asked, leaning up on his elbow to look at Braces. She caught his glance and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't question the brace," Braces remarked, gently petting the mouse.

"Hey, we don't gotta cat right now, do we?" Crutchie asked suddenly. "Mush….?"

Mush shrugged. "I thought we only had Wags. Fluffy hasn't been 'ere in a while."

"I don' think Wags'll try an' eat 'Philip'," Braces murmured, smiling a little. Her voice wasn't so much a whisper as a quiet, calm reassurance. "Or 'Danny', for that matter."

"His name's Philip," Crutchie insisted, and bent down to watch the mouse. Jack cleared his throat. "An' what about the other mice in my bed?"

"Don't stress it, Kelly," Braces mumbled, moving to get another mouse. "Sorry, 'caught the wrong name, Crutch."

Crutchie limped over to Jack's bed once again, taking a few mice up in his hands. "Where do we put these ones?"

Henry glanced up. "Throw 'em out the window."

Crutchie glared at him. "No!"

"Henry, tha's a little harsh„" Braces commented gently, picking up another mouse in her hand, "I can take 'em home with me, if ya want. 'M sure they'd like that alleyway…."

"Alleyway?" Jack asked, confused. Crutchie gave her a look. "You better mean the alleyway by the goil's Lodgin' House, an' not one you might be livin' in…."

"No, I ain't livin' in an alleyway…usually." Braces rolled her eyes, though it was true that, for the night, she was living in the alleyway. She hadn't exactly eaten all day, having lacked the money to do so. "The mice might like it there." She carefully pet the head of one of the mice, thinking. "I jus' wasted a lotta money buyin' seventy papes an' gettin' forty stolen an' then jus'… didn't sell 'em."

"Well, we can' sell 'em today! I'll help you," Crutchie spoke up, ever the optimist.

"It's midnight, Crutchie," Braces insisted, "Old news don't sell 'cept tah bums." She paused, shifting her weight for a minute. "Can I stay here? Jus' tonight. Won't 'appen again, promise."

"Yeah, it won't 'appen again, Jack," Crutchie repeated. Jack frowned slightly. "You're actin' like you put 'em in my bed."

Crutchie went red. "Wasn't me, Jack! 'Onestly."

"Well, it was me." Braces continued, "But I gotta go back tah the alleyway if ya ain't gonna let me stay. So lemme know." Braces dropped her shoulders a little bit. It was getting late and she was incredibly exhausted.

"Course we's lettin' you stay 'ere," Crutchie spoke up before Jack. "We'd be lousy people if we didn't."

Braces smiled slightly. "Thanks. I, uh… I'm sorry, Jack."

"Next person tah put mice in my bed gets booted outta 'ere for the night," Jack raised his voice, only joking a bit.

"I don't even live 'ere," Braces mumbled. She limped over to Crutchie for a moment, a little nervous. "Th-thanks."

Crutchie put a shy hand on her shoulder and led her over to his bed. "Sleep there. It's…..eh, an empty bed." He quickly shoved his boots underneath, along with his vest and hat.

Braces sat down carefully, then took off her brace. She never could sleep with the thing on. "Thanks," she repeated for the umpteenth time as she took off her other boot and climbed under the covers.

Crutchie laid down at the foot of the bed, curling up so he'd have more warmth. "G'night, Braces," he remarked.

"G'night, Crutch," Braces replied, pulling her legs closer to her chest to stay out of Crutchie's way. "Ya gonna be warm 'nough, down there? I can move."

"I'm fine," Crutchie replied with a tiny smile. "You awright yourself?"

Braces nodded, though he couldn't see it in the dark room. "I'm better than before," she answered, "Glad I'm 'ere."

"'M glad you're 'ere too," Crutchie smiled fully.

Braces fell asleep as soon as he had finished speaking, the blankets pulled up to her chin, her head resting on Crutchie's pillow for the time being. She didn't have nightmares like she had, earlier. She dreamt about Santa Fe, about actually living a life where everyone was happy and she didn't have to lie for anyone. The fact of the matter was, it seemed pretty impossible from where she was. But Braces let herself believe that would be possible, that she, and Crutchie, would make it out of New York someday.

Crutchie didn't want to go anywhere without Braces. He knew, just by staying here with her, he was fine. With Braces, Crutchie felt like he could do anything. Not that he already did everything.


	8. Chapter 8

A little before everyone else woke up, Braces dragged herself out of bed to try and leave before she got kicked out. She leaned down to gently kiss Crutchie's cheek as he slept before she left, feeling it the right thing to do, and grabbed her brace before starting to head down the stairs. There were some people, she figured, that one could just love and love and love and nothing would ever change about that. And, in her mind, it was all very platonic. Braces didn't intend to have anyone like that in her life. Crutchie was like her brother, after all.

"Braces?" Crutchie asked sleepily, only half-stirring awake. He reached his hand up, trying to catch her.

Braces turned back suddenly, almost losing her balance. "Hm?" She asked, gripping her brace a little tighter. She was feeling starry-eyed and vaguely discontented.

"Where're ya goin'," Crutchie asked sleepily once more.

"Wanna get out 'fore the other fellas hit the streets," Braces answered quietly, "Don't wanna get kicked outta 'ere, y'know."

"Jack ain't gonna kick ya out," Crutchie mumbled, almost falling asleep again. "Go back tah bed."

Braces paused, looking to him for a moment. "That's your bed. I should… I should go." She made for the door, again, but stopped herself.

"Go back tah bed," Crutchie insisted, and fell to the bed with a snore.

Braces nodded slowly, limping gently to the door. She still carried her brace in her arm, and every step was a struggle. Just as she was thinking she was making progress, she fell to the ground, the brace landing with a clatter a few feet away. "Damn," she said under her breath, trying to get herself back onto her feet. "Crutch?"

Whatever help she had been expecting was replaced by another loud snore.

Braces scoffed, reaching for the bedpost and pulling herself onto her left leg. Romeo woke up, suddenly, having reached down and accidentally touched something metallic and cold. "SPIDER." He said, only to see the brace lying on the ground.

"Romeo, help me," Braces insisted frustratedly, "Crutchie's asleep."

Romeo got to his feet. He was a little angry, but he couldn't stay angry at Braces when she was so clearly helpless. He walked her over to the bed, lowering her down next to Crutchie. "What're ya doin' up at three in the mornin'?" Romeo asked.

"Fallin'," Braces answered slowly, "Thanks."

Romeo shrugged and went back to bed, running a hand through his flyaway hair. Braces shook her head, curling up next to Crutchie instead of just lying under the covers. "Hi," she whispered, a little too awake.

Crutchie didn't wake but muttered something incomprehensible. "I did it, Jack," he mumbled. "Don't blame Braces….." he turned over with another snore.

Braces chuckled quietly. "You did it?" She asked him, looking down, "So it wasn't jus' mice in the Lodgin' 'ouse?"

Philip the mouse chose that time to crawl out of Crutchie's shirt collar and crawl onto Crutchie's head. He squeaked at Braces again.

Braces glanced to Philip, and took him in her hands, gently petting the mouse's head. She rolled onto her back and glanced to Crutchie to see if she had woken him up. "Hi, Philip," she murmured to the fluffy thing, "Hope you like your new home."

Philip squeaked back in response. Crutchie gave out a snore again, turning back over on his side.

Braces grinned, moving over a little to lay her head next to Crutchie's. "Night, then," she told Crutchie, closing her eyes tiredly.

"Night," Crutchie whispered back, his mouth twitching into a smile.

Braces fell asleep a little less easily, this time. But just being there with him felt better than if she were alone, or with anyone else. She wearily curled up closer to Crutchie, and wrapped her arms around him, sleeping with her head on his chest.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning brought bad news. All the mice were gone.

Braces went limping around the Lodging House,calling the names of Philip and Danny and all of the rest of the gang, but they simply wouldn't come. She was starting to get a little worried, too.

Crutchie limped down the stairs one at a time, rubbing a hand through his already messy hair. "D'you see 'em anywhere?"

"Not yet, no," Braces answered, struggling to pull on the brace as she walked. "Philip was in my hands earlier, but… don't see 'im now."

"We gotta search everywhere," Crutchie said, flinging his arms wide to indicate the space. He toppled with a yell over as he let go of his crutch, crashing to the floor.

Braces limped over to him, helping him stand as Romeo had helped her before. "You're okay," she promised, though she wasn't sure if she was saying it to him or to herself.

"I know," Crutchie said, flailing his arms again before seeking the grip on his crutch. He glanced over his shoulder, lifting up his bad leg as he saw a mouse scurry by. "Found one!"

Braces quickly grabbed the fluffy thing. "Got it," she told Crutchie, smiling, "It's Danny."

Crutchie bent down on his knees, looking around the wall to find the other mice. He stuck his head into the kitchen and froze. "Think I found Philip an' the rest."

Braces tilted her head to the side, leaning over Crutchie to peek around the door. "Where?"

"The cupboard," Crutchie blinked. "Wit' all the food that's now on the floor."

Braces shook her head reluctantly. "Nice job ya did, wit' them mice," she told him, almost irritable. "C'mon, let's get 'em outside. I'll take 'em tah the alleyway."

"It wasn't me!" Crutchie protested, getting to his feet and limping into the kitchen.

"Right, it was me," Braces replied, walking behind him into the kitchen. "I'll, uh, grab Johnny and Warren and Susanna."

"I got May an', uh, Clara," Crutchie scooped up two mice in his hands.

Braces had been walking out of the building when she heard the names. "You named a mouse after me?" She asked, turning back to smile at him, "Y'know, your best girl."

"M' best friend who's a girl," Crutchie smiled softly, limping over to catch up with her.

"I shoulda named my mouse Crutchie." Braces remarked, smiling a little. "Course, mice don't 'ave crutches."

"Mice is….indestructible!" Crutchie proclaimed. "They don't need crutches."

"No, they ain't," Braces rolled her eyes slightly, "But… they got four legs, I mean."

"Yeah they is!" Crutchie argued. An' with four legs, if you jus' break one, yous still fine. Sorta. But you'd need two crutches if ya break two legs."

"You'd need a wheelchair," Braces remarked, smiling a little. "Yous so optimistic."

Crutchie paused, and then nodded. "Right. A wheelchair. Optimistic? What's that?"

"Happy." Braces replied with a shrug. "You're happy."

"Course I'm 'appy, I gotta be for Jack an' you," Crutchie responded. "You two is such downers."

"Hey, I got every right tah be a downer." Braces protested, though she was grinning.

"Yeah, sure, it's a free country," Crutchie scoffed.

"Hey, it's a hard life, ain't it? Always freezin' or burnin' up, gettin' beat up every time ya step outside, breakin' yer 'and on someone's face…" Braces offered, "'Cept when yous around."

"But if ya didn't go outside, then ya wouldn't 'ave met me, an' you woulda been worse off, so there," Crutchie countered triumphantly.

Braces nodded slowly. "If I 'adn't met you, I'd be either in 'n orphanage or dead." She stated, "Jus' lookin' back at everythin'." She chuckled a little. "Glad I went outside in the middle of December, last year."

"Don't look back, look at me," Crutchie grinned, taking her hand. "An' so am I."

"Here's lookin' at you," Braces remarked under her breath, swinging their hands back and forth ever-so-slightly.

Crutchie glanced down at the two mice in his hand. "Where should we put 'em? Mind leadin' me to your alleyway?"

Braces chuckled slightly. "Don't mind at all, seein' as I might not be stuck there tonight." She noted, glancing to her broken hand, holding a few mice close to her chest in relation to her still-working left hand in Crutchie's grasp. "Thanks again."

Crutchie carefully took the mice out of her hand and tried to carry them around in the palm of his free left hand. "No," he instructed her. "Yous goin' intah the Girl's Lodgin' House, and yous stayin' there. I'll pay for ya."

"N-no, I'll make money today," Braces decided, "I'm gonna sell the evenin' edition an' I'll jus' be out a little later 'n normal." She eyed him awkwardly. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure," Crutchie shook his head. "I'll pay for ya."

Braces scoffed. "Do you think I can't take care of myself, or somethin'?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah, you jus' need remindin' once in awhile!" Crutchie responded, pleased with himself.

"That you'll take care o' me? I don't understand." Braces shook her head, frustrated and almost offended.

"Remindin' that there's people 'ere for you," Crutchie explained.

Braces froze in her tracks. "You say that here, but give it a couple years. You'll meet some girl an' forget ya ever said any of this."

Crutchie took her hand again tentatively. "Trus' me, Braces. We's only twelve. There's some chance we'll die between now an' a couple years, so don't look ahead to that! Just' concentrate on now. An' now I'm sayin' we need to get these mice to their new 'ome."

Braces chuckled slightly. "An' whatever ya say, goes, don't it?" She asked. "We're just a block away, now. An' if ya ain't lookin' ahead, where're ya lookin'? Before ya said not tah look back."

"Ehhhhhh," Crutchie hesitated, slightly stumped at that one. "Wellll…jus' look straight in fronta you. In the moment. You gotta take the moment!"

"Seize the day?" Braces asked, "An' you said I was bein' poetic…," she trailed off, walking forward. "It's right here," she pointed out, smiling. "Pretty cozy, ain't it?"

"No," Crutchie said flatly. "Maybe for other mice…."

"Maybe I'm a mouse," Braces offered, taking Philip and Clara from Crutchie's hands and placing them on top of a crate. "That's why ya named her Clara. 'Cause I'm a mouse."

Crutchie watched the mice scamper around and sat on top of a second crate, pulling his leg up with him. "They sure like tah run."

"I'm—I'm sure we would, too, if we could." Braces pointed out as she climbed up next to him. She rested her head against his shoulder. "If only, y'know? The gimp leg may be a gold mine, but… well."

Crutchie looked down at her head almost wistfully. "Between us, we got two workin' legs. Those mice don't got nothin' on us."

"Two bad legs, two workin' legs," Braces chuckled. "We's half a mouse."

There was a pause. "I do like cheese," Crutchie said after a moment.

"I like… bread?" Braces shrugged, accidentally hitting Crutchie with her shoulder. "Sorry."

Crutchue nudged her back, smiling. His smile disappeared as he remembered something. "We gotta sell papes." He quickly jumped off the crate, grabbing his crutch and limping to the entrance of the alleyway. "We gotta sell papes! Braces, we's already late!"

Braces hopped down after him. "Well, uh," she paused, fixing her skirt slightly, "Let's go. Can't spend my whole life bein' homeless."

"That's somethin' Jack says, too," Crutchie commented, remembering. "Only he says it about dreamin'. Only he jokes 'bout it. We really do want 'im to wake up an' stop dreamin'."

"Boy's got 'is head in the clouds," Braces joked, walking on a little in front of Crutchie. "Sometimes I think dreams like that is pointless."

Crutchie laughed slightly, glancing down. "Sometimes they is. But they keep Jack 'opeful, right?"

"What about when he finds you two broken in an alley?" Mace called out from behind them. Crutchie spun around immediately, losing his balance and falling to the ground. Cruel laughter followed this move.


	10. Chapter 10

Braces helped Crutchie to his feet. "Here's the thing, Mace," Braces offered, glancing to her broken hand. "We's already broken. Or, 't least, I am. It's not like ya got much of a job."

"We got a job from our uncle," Mace shot back, cracking his knuckles. "To beat up kids like you."

"That's not what I meant," Braces insisted, stepping up to him threateningly. She clenched her unbroken hand into a fist, just as Crutchie had taught her. "I meant, if we're already broken, you don't have to do anythin' an' ya can leave us alone."

"Why don'tcha fight back, huh?" Mace put his feet apart, goading on Crutchie, who glared at him. Mace nodded, beckoning. "Come on. Why don'tcha?" Crutchie limped up to Mace as fast as he could, swinging up an arm to punch him in the face. Mace caught his wrist, getting into Crutchie's face for a moment and then pushing him down to the ground.

Braces tried to hit at Mace as she went to help Crutchie, but became utterly confused and ended up punching Crutchie, while grabbing Mace and accidentally pulling him close to her. She panicked, then started hitting Mace repeatedly in the jaw. "Don't—touch—him," Braces threatened weakly, her voice shaky.

Mace frantically covered up his nose with a hand, trying to stop the blood. "Help!" he started yelling. "Help! I'm bein' attacked!"

Braces stopped at the sight of blood. Suddenly, she was scared of herself. "I hurt you." She mumbled, "I—I'm just like my dad, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't—I don't…," she felt a cold, empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, accompanying a sort of nausea. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you're sorry," Mace scoffed, and ran off into the night.

Crutchie sat up painfully, clutching his stomach. "We should…..wait fer Jack."

Braces nodded, though she was thinking about something else entirely. "I'm sorry," she repeated under her breath, looking helplessly to Crutchie. There was blood on her knuckles and she tried to accept the fact that she had hurt someone without feeling like a beast. "We'll, um, we'll wait, I guess." Braces nodded, but turned on a dime and started running as fast as she could. From Crutchie, from Mace, from herself. She didn't want Crutchie to see her like this, that was for sure.

"Br—Braces?" Crutchie called after her, feeling the dark close in around him. "Braces, come back!" His voice faded away into the night. "Braces…..?"

Braces stopped in her tracks, breathing heavily. She had tears streaming down her face and she clenched her hands to close to her torso. "I'm a… I'm a bomb, Crutchie, an' I don't want you tah get hurt when I finally go off." She told him, shaking her head, "I don't want to hurt you."

"How could ya hurt me?" Crutchie asked, glancing in her direction. "You ain't Mace or Peter."

Braces shook her head, "N-no, no, Crutchie, I feel like you're gonna get attached to me, an' I'm gonna be… I'm gonna lose it one day an' you'll end up losin' me for good. I don't want ya tah care about me so much that it'll hurt."

"We already got hurt so much today, don't know what the diff'rence is," Crutchie said dryly.

Braces was silent for an anxious moment. When she finally spoke, it was shaky: "I know I'm… I'm kind of crazy, aren't I?" She shrugged, Braces turned to walk away again, but stopped herself. "I'm jus' scared that one day, I'll panic jus' like I did today, but you won't be the person to find me. I'll get hurt somehow, an' it'll be someone else… an' you can be damn sure it'd be a lot worse."

"Braces, that ain't never goin' to happen," Crutchie told her sternly, attempting to get to his feet. "I'll always be there for ya."

Braces frowned, still. He seemed so sweet, almost beguiling about all of this, under his frustration. But she couldn't handle it. She'd just hurt someone. She was just like her father, she told herself, just as violent and mean. "I have to go." She told him suddenly, turning to leave.

"Don't go," Crutchie said so quietly that she couldn't hear. He propped himself up on his crutch, taking slow, shaky steps after her.

Braces stopped, glancing to her bloodied knuckles again. "Okay," she replied, feeling incredibly docile, "Whatever you say, Crutchie."

Crutchie limped over to her hurriedly, slipping and landing on the ground with a sharp crack. He yelled in pain as he went down, and then was still.

Braces quickly knelt by his side, grabbing his hand. "Crutchie, what's wrong?" She asked him, leaning in to check if his eyes were dilated. "H-Help! Someone?"

He didn't move, or react to Braces.

Braces leaned down and gently kissed Crutchie's forehead. "I'll be back," she promised, running toward the nearest building, coincidentally a doctor's office. She dragged out the first person she saw, a young-ish doctor whose face she had seen before. Braces shook off the thought and convinced the man to help her. He reluctantly picked Crutchie up from the ground, then took him inside.


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours later, Jack rushed inside. "I got word—Specs told me—-what 'appened?!"

"I don't know," Braces answered reluctantly, shaking still. She held her knee close to her chest. "I beat up a guy, then Crutchie tripped an'—Jack, I think I did it."

"Did what?" Jack asked her, out of breath. "How couldya ever hurt Crutchie?" He paused. "He is okay, ain't he?"

"I don't know, I jus'—I hit Mace, an' Crutchie fell, an' I don't think I got tah 'im fast 'nough!" Braces stammered fearfully.

Jack walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine, Braces. I'm…I'm sure he'll be fine enough. Ya ran into Mace an' Peter again?"

Braces nodded. "Yeah, an' I finally got the courage tah actually fight back, but then Mace's face was bleedin' an' I scared myself."

"But what 'appened to Crutchie?" Jack persisted. "Why's he like this?!"

"I don't know." Braces retorted, "He tripped an' then—Jack, I don't have an answer, Jack. I jus' don't know."

Jack sat down in a ragged chair, putting his head in his hands. "All this fer art."

"Better than all of this fer a loaf of bread," Braces snarked. "Look, it's not jus' like I freaked out an' hurt 'im. I don't wanna hurt 'im."

"You didn't hurt 'im, Braces," Jack raised a hand, stopping her. "Don't blame yerself."

"I always blame myself," Braces shook her head, surprised he had said anything, "That's who I am."

"Then stop bein' who you is," Jack scoffed, burying his head in his hands again.

Braces furrowed her eyebrows. "That's kinda hard, Jack." She noted, sighing a little. "How boyt you stop bein' who you is, an' maybe we'll both be even."

Jack made a slight strangled noise of protest. "Trouble follows you an' Crutchie ev'rywhere. Tell it tah leave you alone sometimes."

Braces chuckled lightly. "Hey, trouble, don't come knockin' fer a while! I need to sell some papes." She joked, mostly to herself.

The door to the doctor's office opened, and Jack raised his head hopefully. "Is he okay?"

The doctor frowned a little at Jack and Braces' state. "He's going to be fine," he assured them, "He simply knocked himself out."

Jack stood up, crossing over to the door. He paused, looking back at the doctor. "Can I go see 'im? An', uh, couldja do somethin' about my friend's hand over there? She broke it."

The doctor nodded. "Don't get too rough with him," he told Jack, as he walked over to Braces. "How'd you break your hand, Clara?"

"On someone's face." Braces shrugged, not taking note of the fact that the guy knew her name. "Couldn't throw a punch." She paused as the Doctor started to unwrap the bandage on her hand. "Jack, will you tell 'im I'm sorry?"

"Fer what?" Jack called back as he disappeared into the room.

"Fer panicking like that," Braces mumbled, looking down at her hand awkwardly. The Doctor was putting it in a cast, and she wasn't so sure she liked that. Still, Jack had insisted, and it was better to just let him be a leader for now.

"Come on, kid," came Jack's voice followed by Crutchie's weak protests. Jack emerged, holding a very disgruntled Crutchie in his arms. "I'm fine, Jack! I can walk! I 'ave my crutch!"

Braces tried to wave at the boys with her right hand, but the doctor pushed her arm back down to keep working on it. "What 'appened?" Braces asked gently, looking to Crutchie.

"I fainted," Crutchie said incredulously, as if fainting were the most horrible thing a person could ever do. He looked up at Jack. Jack raised his eyebrow, and Crutchie sighed. "'M sorry for stealin' your art yesterday mornin'."

Jack gently set him back on the floor again, giving him his crutch. "There we go, kid."

Braces smiled thinly. "So it wasn't my fault?" She asked, rocking a little bit. The doctor was still working on her hand, mumbling about newsies and their injuries.

"Course not!" Crutchie limped over to her cheerfully. "It was Mace's an' Peter's fault, I toldja that."

Braces nodded. "Okay," she chuckled gently, as the doctor finished the cast and started to walk away. She looked at her hand and sighed. "Shame. I shoulda been born left-handed."

Crutchie held up his own right hand for a second, and then grabbed onto his crutch again. "Was goin' to offer you my own 'and, but I sorta need it."

Braces glanced up at him, eyes smiling. "Well, you can 'ave my bad hand fer now." She decided, "Or somethin'. You 'ave my 'and."

"You two is twelve, don't go askin' for anyone's 'and in marriage yet," Jack cut in, though he was secretly laughing at the pair.

Braces paused, stammering as she tried to deny anything there. "We ain't gettin' married," she decided, "I'm gonna be… a nun."

"I'm gonna be a newsie," Crutchie said hurriedly, overlapping Braces. Jack raised an eyebrow, and then turned to the doctor, rooting in his pocket for money. "Thanks, doc. 'Ow much do I owe you….?"

"Nothing," the doctor replied, "I realize that you three can't afford medical care, and, well… you didn't really get anything out of this. So, you owe nothing."

"Ya sure 'bout that, doc?" Jack asked slowly, though he had already put the money back in his pocket.

"Positive. Now, go," the doctor insisted, "Go do something with your lives."

"Yeah, sell papes," Jack dipped his cap at the doctor, thanking him and herding Braces and Crutchie out the door. "You 'eard the man. Let's go."

Braces nodded, sticking by Crutchie's side as they were pushed along. "Papes, right," she smiled a little, "Don't s'pose I can sell old news, huh?"

"What's old news?" Crutchie questioned as Jack led them away.

"Old newspapers. From yesterday." Braces replied, "Hell, I might jus' make 'em into beds fer our mice."

"That's a good idea!" Crutchie nodded. Jack steered them through the streets, guiding them to the Distribution Office. "Still a couplea hours left in the day."

Braces chuckled a little, looking to the Distribution Office. "We'll sell the Evenin' Edition, then."

"An' we'll do a damn good job wit' it too," Crutchie said optimistically, limping up to the counter. He was surprisingly chipper for having been unconscious not too recently. "A hundred papes, Mistah Wiesel."

Wiesel reluctantly took the money, not bothering to ask any questions about Braces' broken hand. Oscar took a stack of papers and handed it to Crutchie, rolling his eyes. "What's with you two gimps, today?" He asked sarcastically.

"Jack," Crutchie pointed out a bit obviously. "He wasn't wit' us yesterday."

Braces kept moving, asking for a mere thirty newspapers and handing her money to Mr. Wiesel. She knew, already, she wasn't going to sell a lot with the way she was feeling. "An' your friends decided tah pick on me in an alleyway," Braces told Oscar, glaringly irritable.

"We beat 'em up," Crutchie interjected before Oscar had a chance to say anything. "Taught 'em a lesson…they wouldn't forget."

"Right," Braces replied shakily, "Yeah, got Mace so beat up he was—carryin' on—an'—uh… yeah."

"Get outta 'ere," Oscar spat, walking closer to Crutchie. "You dumb crip!" He pushed him to the ground, and Jack hurried over. "Get outta 'ere before I beat you up!" Jack threatened, pulling Crutchie up. "You awright, kid?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine Jack," Crutchie reassured him, shaking Jack off and then limping back to Braces.

Braces glared up at Oscar for a moment, unafraid, though she was upset. "If my hand wasn't so broken, I'd jus' soak ya, Oscar Delancey," she threatened. Braces wasn't afraid of being hurt by Oscar at all. But she was afraid of Crutchie getting hurt by anyone because he was her constant, even when things were hard.

Jack took Braces' hand, pulling her away from Oscar who pulled faces at them. "He ain't worth it," Jack pointed out. "You two go to Grand Central."

"That ol' place?" Crutchie laughed.

Braces glared at Oscar as Jack dragged her away. "He's… he's jailbait." She grumbled, walking closer to Crutchie than she was earlier, simply out of anger and a sort of hidden fear.

"Nah, he's never been in the Refuge," Jack threw over his shoulder. "I'll see you folks later. Gotta sell my own papes first."

"Do that little thing," Braces smiled slightly, but kept walking, "Um, so any good headlines?"


	12. Chapter 12

Crutchie stared at the newspaper he had opened. "Murders on 54th street. Lotsa blood."

"Well, tha's gruesome." Braces remarked, raising an eyebrow. She kicked the ground slightly, before stuffing her papers into her bag and walking on. "It'll sell quick."

"Lotsa murders today," Crutchie frowned, still reading the paper.

"So it goes," Braces shrugged a little, though she was insatiably curious about why there were so many murders. "At least we didn't hurt no one."

"Lotsa lotsa murders," Crutchie persisted. "An' some fella named James Plumber got 'is doctorate."

Braces tilted her head to the side. "That ain't any special kinda name," she noted, looking down. "But uh… guess he ain't a murderer."

Crutchie started to fold up the paper, but then decided to just use it. "Murders on…..ehhhh…..54th!"

"Murder String Not at all Related to New Doctor, James Plumber!" Braces hawked, taking one of her own newspapers out.

"That sounds suspicious," Crutchie commented. "Entire Family gone! Mayor devastated!" He limped towards a promising couple, putting on his 'sick cripple' act that wasn't as hard to do today.

Braces watched him intently for a moment, before turning to a gaggle of students nearby. "Murderer on 54th!" She told them, holding a newspaper proudly in her hand. One of them produced a nickel and handed it to her. She smiled, then handed him four more newspapers before walking away uncomfortably with a quarter from a different student. Braces apparently looked very pitiful for a weekday.

Crutchie bounded up to her, dirt on his face along with a grin. "You got a quarter too?"

Braces nodded excitedly, though she was a little confused. "Do I still 'ave a black eye?" She asked, instead of giving an answer to his question.

"Do I?" Crutchie asked her slightly defensively as if to call attention away from his squirming newspaper bag.

"Yeah, it's not that bad," Braces replied. She avoided the sight of his bag as she asked: "What's in there?"

Crutchie held up the bag to his side, trying to get it out of her way. "Nothin'. Jus' my papes."

"'S it a dog?" was her first question, though it seemed highly out of place and very far-fetched. Braces paused, "Or a mouse. Mice fit in bags."

"We already got a dog," Crutchie said, avoiding the latter statement. "Name's Wags. You've met 'im, 'aven't ya?"

"Yep," Braces raised an eyebrow confusedly, "We saw 'im yesterday, 'member? Licked your face, didn't 'e?"

"Oh, yeah," Crutchie's face went slightly red, and he awkwardly turned to a passing group, doling out newspapers.

Braces looked down sheepishly, folding her hands together. After a moment, she looked around for another customer. "Well, you should tell me what it is." She said quickly, before walking up to an elderly pair sitting on a park bench, feeding birds. They exchanged their pennies for newspapers, and Braces smiled contentedly at them before she returned to Crutchie.

"What's what?" Crutchie called over his shoulder.

"The thing in your bag," Braces insisted, getting a little frustrated. She limped back over to him and finally went around to snoop inside the bag. "You're so secretive."

"Hey!" Crutchie protested, taking his bag away again. "It's jus' my papes, I toldja! Go sell yer own!"

Braces straightened up, eyeing him skeptically. "Well, aren't you a little irritable?" She scoffed. "It's pretty obvious tha' whatevah ya got in there ain't worth ya gettin' angry 'bout it."

"Let's jus'….." Crutchie fumbled for an answer, walking by her side. "Go back to the Lodgin' House. End o' the day an' all."

"I still got 'bout ten papes," Braces mumbled, looking around for a few more customers. "You really is bein' weird, today."

"I ain't weird at all!" Crutchie protested defensively. "It's only some mice—ehhhhh, some…papes. I mean."

"Why do you have mice in your bag?" Braces asked. She stopped walking and turned to face him, confused. "Did you take Philip an' Danny an'… an' Clara from my place?"

"Eh," Crutchie stuttered, and then looked past Braces up into the sky. His eyes widened dramatically. "Woah! What's that?!"

Braces wasn't fooled. "Crutchie, what are you tryin' tah do?" She asked. "Get me in more trouble with Jack, or jus'—is this somethin' tah do with me an' the alleyway?"

"I ain't gettin' anyone in trouble with Jack!" Crutchie protested, trying to push past her. "Braces, let me go by."

Braces sidestepped to stop him again. "Crutchie, please, jus' gimme a straight answer," she pleaded, feeling almost as if she were five or six again. "You're makin' me nervous."

"Yes, they'se mice," Crutchie gave in. "Don't tell Jack?"

"Can't," Braces replied honestly, shrugging. She was relieved, but not all that much. "Okay, one more question. Why mice?"

"They was there?" Crutchie spread his hands apart, shrugging.

"Don't lie," Braces insisted quietly, "I jus' wanna know, I'm sorry."

"They was there," Crutchie pouted. "I jus', ehhh, picked 'em up."

Braces furrowed her eyebrows slightly. "Are we raisin' mice tahgether, or what?"

"Raisin', mice," Crutchie scoffed. "Raisin' mice, yeah, that's a good one, Braces…" he trailed off. "No, we's sellin' our papes," he insisted.

Braces clenched her jaw for a moment, out of confusion and slight frustration. "Why are you so mad at me?" She asked gently, furrowing her eyebrows. Again, she felt like a little kid. "Do you hate me? Is that what this is?"

"I ain't mad atcha," Crutchie protested. "You always think I'm mad atcha, when I ain't."

"When isn't everyone mad at me?" Braces asked, gesturing around the street. "I mean, there's a reason I stuck my neck out like that with the mice. Nothin's gonna change. Can't change."

"Braces!" Crutchie pleaded. "None o' us is mad atcha. I'm jus' goin' to eh, give these mice to Jack. Ya don't need to worry at all, ya don't even live there!"

Braces paused, looking up at him for a moment. "Y-you're right, I think," she muttered under her breath. "I don't live there."

"So the mice ain't your problem," Crutchie reasoned. "They'se goin' to be Jack's."

"I made them my problem," Braces corrected, stepping a little closer to Crutchie suddenly. "I chose them. Kinda like I chose you, Crutchie. An'… an' you're my favorite problem."

Crutchie glanced up at her somewhat warily, still clutching the bag in his hands. "I ain't a problem to nobody," he mumbled. "I ain't a mouse."

Braces nodded. "Well, neither am I," she muttered, "You ain't a problem, you're jus'… you create them, don't ya? But they're good problems."

"I don't cause problems!" Crutchie protested. He paused. "Do I?"

"Jus' the good ones," Braces insisted, "You do more good than anythin', I promise."

Crutchie pushed past her again, though more gently than before. He continued walking down the street, letting his bag fall over his side. "Jack'll be worried, come on."

Braces frowned a little, but followed Crutchie. "You're a little pushy today, Crutch," she mumbled, "Is somethin' up?"

"No," Crutchie said quietly, immediately ashamed. "Let's jus'—let's jus' go."


	13. Chapter 13

"No, somethin's up," Braces insisted, looking at him for a moment. "Do you want somethin', is what I'm askin'. If you want, we can ditch an' make a day of doin' nothin'."

"The day's done, Braces," Crutchie reminded her. "'S'no use now, we gotta get back." He tried turning away from her again.

Braces walked helplessly after him, confused and a little saddened by his secrecy. "It's May, isn't it?" She asked, as if to change the subject.

"Yeah," Crutchie said, not committing to the question.

"So it's almost summer," Braces added, "And we met in the winter, an'… when's your birthday?"

"May," Crutchie said nonchalantly, quite forgetting himself.

"It's May, now," Braces insisted, "Is it your birthday?"

Crutchie didn't answer for a moment as he was about to say no, but then he remembered his earlier promise. "Yes."

Braces looked at him in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" She asked gently, catching up with him as they walked.

"Didn't wanta trouble nobody," Crutchie explained, fixing his suspender.

"Birthdays aren't trouble," Braces decided, taking his arm. "We're goin' to Jacobi's, an' I'm buyin' you a soda water."

"You don't gotta do anythin' for me," Crutchie protested.

"Yes, I do," Braces insisted, "Yous… yous my Crutchie. My best friend."

"I'm yours too, I hope,' Crutchie laughed.

Braces smiled slightly. "Well, I hope the same 'bout myself, with you." She added.

"Jack'll be worried, if we don't get back soon," Crutchie said reluctantly.

"Doesn't he know it's your birthday?" Braces asked, looking up at him for a minute.

"Ehhhhhhh, I don't think so," Crutchie mumbled.

"But it… it doesn't matter, does it?" Braces offered, "It's your birthday. You're… twelve? Thirteen? Five hundred?"

Crutchie laughed at the 'five hundred'. "Thirteen, Braces. I can't live forever."

"Yeah, ya can," Braces laughed, "You jus' 'aftah not die."

But Crutchie wasn't paying attention. He quickened his pace, limping up to the door of the Lodging House. "Jack, let us in!"

"Fine, fine, I'm comin'!" Jack called as he stomped up to the door and yanked it open, "More mice tah stick in my bed, Braces?"

"Not exactly, no," Braces replied meekly.

"Good," Crutchie said a bit too enthusiastically, and barged inside. He stopped, turning around to Jack warily. "Jack…..d'you know what today is?"

"It's a… thursday, I think?" Jack shrugged, "I dunno, why? Is it Easter?!"

"Easter's not in May," Crutchie mumbled and crossed over to the couch.

"It's Mother's day," Jack rolled his eyes, "None of us got mothers, Crutch."

"IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, JACK FRANCIS KELLY!" Crutchie yelled.

"IT IS?!" Jack took on the same tone as Crutchie, before practically picking him up. "Yous thirteen, ain't ya?"

"Yes," Crutchie gasped out. "Jack—put me down."

Jack let Crutchie down, looking to Braces for a moment. "Did you know?" He asked. She shook her head, though she was smiling.

"Nobody knew, didn't tell nobody," Crutchie tried to say as gruffly as he could, taking his crutch back.

"Why not, though?" Jack asked gently, furrowing his eyebrows. "If we'd known, we woulda done somethin'."

"Didn't wanta trouble nobody," Crutchie mumbled.

"It's me an' Braces," Jack replied quickly, "That ain't troublin' nobody."

"Yeah, well, I know you ain't nobody," Crutchie said, gesturing with his hand. "That's why I toldja."

"It's not… it's not a trouble," Braces insisted, "It's a pleasure."

"My birthday?" Crutchie asked, crinkling up his face in slight confusion.

"Yeah, plannin' it out." Braces explained, "If we'd known, we woulda done somethin'."

"Yeah, well, ya didn't so that's that," Crutchie sat down on the couch.

"'Cause I didn't know," Braces sighed slightly, sitting next to him. She took his hand in hers. "Happy birthday."

Crutchie gave her a small smile, lacing up his fingers in hers. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Braces muttered sweetly, leaning into his shoulder carefully.

"You two lovebirds can go on upstairs," Jack sighed. "Crutchie….we woulda done somethin' if you told us."

"We ain't lovebirds," Braces insisted suddenly, "I ain't a bird, anyways." She let go of Crutchie's hand and stood up. "I'd 'ave baked, or somethin'."

Crutchie stood up for her. "There's always next year," he reminded them.

"Always," Braces nodded, shrugging a little. "It'll be nice, I can promise ya that."

"It's always nice, even when ya don't take the time," Crutchie said, glancing down. He looked back up at Braces hopefully. "But thanks, Braces."

"Don't thank me," Braces insisted, "I didn't do anythin'."

"You always do somethin'," Crutchie protested.

"Quit your yappin' an' go to bed," Jack groaned. "Early start tomorrow."

Braces nodded dutifully. "I should head back, then." She told Crutchie, holding out a hand, "Gimme back my roommates, an' I'll be on my way."

"I don't got 'em," Crutchie protested, holding his bag away. He looked up into her eyes, gave a small sigh and drew out the mice. He dropped them into her hand reluctantly. "There ya go."

"Thanks," Braces smiled thinly, placing them gently into her own bag. "Happy birthday, Crutchie. I'll see ya 'round, then."

"See ya, Braces," Crutchie gave her a smile, waving her goodbye. Jack put an arm around his shoulders, leading him upstairs. Jack collapsed into his bed after taking a swift glance under the blanket and the pillow. Crutchie stayed awake a bit longer, staring up at the bed above his. He yawned, eventually turning over and rolling up in his blankets as he fell asleep. His slumber, along with the rest of the newsies', would be disturbed early in the morning by Jack's frantic cry once again,

"MICE! GET 'EM OUT, GET 'EM OUT!"


End file.
